


punny love

by curiositykilled



Series: tumblr prompts [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bad Pick-Up Lines, Injury, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-26
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2019-01-23 14:54:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12509940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curiositykilled/pseuds/curiositykilled
Summary: “How’s your head feel?” he asks.Shiro pauses a long moment, enough for Lance to firmly decide on ’concussion.’“Not as bad as you,” Shiro says finally.A slow grin is starting across his lips, and Lance stares down at him, mouth parted in speechless confusion.“‘Cause you must’ve fallen from heaven,” Shiro finishes, beaming.





	punny love

                  “Shiro, hey, Shiro, can you hear me?” Lance asks.

                  Shiro groans, forehead crinkling in displeasure as he scrunches his eyes closed. He reaches his left hand up to grip his forehead, fingertips digging into his temples, and Lance breathes a sigh of relief. Movement is good. Movement is _great_ after that blast. He settles back on his haunches, hand still resting on Shiro’s shoulder. There are lacerations cutting through Shiro’s undersuit, but they all look pretty minor. He can’t see any other injuries.

                  “Lance, how is he?” Keith demands over the comms.

                  “Conscious,” Lance says - because if he starts with ‘not sure,’ there’s a ninety percent chance Keith will drop everything to get to them. “He’s moving. I’ll keep you updated.”

                  “Get him to Blue. We’ll hold these guys off,” Keith replies.

                  Lance glances up to where three of the five lions are still fighting Galra ships and then back to the empty wreckage in which he sits. The plan had been simple enough - Lance and Shiro went in the Galra base discreetly while the other paladins waited as reinforcements. It had almost worked, too. They’d been on their way out of the base, ship records already sent off to Pidge, when they’d been cornered. The Galra had triggered an explosion of some sort, and the next thing Lance had known, he’d been falling backwards as Shiro pushed him out of the room.

                  The door had slammed shut just before the explosion rocked the base, leaving Lance staring in horror at place where he’d last seen Shiro. When the shock had faded, he’d scrambled to his feet and pried open the doors. Shiro had lain sprawled across the floor, helmet shattered and face slack. Lance is still a little surprised he’d been able to find a pulse with how badly his hands were shaking.

                  Now, he turns back to Shiro and breathes out relief mixed with exasperation. Before, his throat had been choked too full with fear to feel anything else. Now, he can’t help the familiar frustration rising up in his chest.

                  Shiro is a survivor to a humbling degree; Lance has seen him crawl to his feet and keep fighting when anyone else would simply lay down and accept defeat. His willpower and drive for life is the only reason he’s survived what he has - captivity and torture and a year lost on the astral plane - but that same willpower and drive is too easily redirected to protecting the people he loves. It’s going to kill him someday, Lance knows. Every time Shiro sacrifices himself for them, that eventuality grows an hour closer.

                  “Hey, you with me?” Lance asks.

                  Shiro’s forehead scrunches a little tighter before he squints one eye open. Lance winces in sympathy. He’s definitely going to feel that in the morning. Lifting his hand, he offers a small wave. Shirt’s eyes both open before squinting, hard and confused, at Lance. Lance’s wave falters.

                  “Shiro?” he asks.

                  “Hi,” Shiro says slowly.

                  Something seems off in his voice, an uncertainty there that Lance rarely hears. It’s not doubt exactly so much as…a question, maybe. Confusion.

                  “How many fingers am I holding up?” Lance asks, raising his hand.

                  Shiro’s gaze slides slowly down to Lance’s hand before returning to his face. The squint has faded to be replaced with an intensity that sets Lance’s skin to itching. Is there something on his face? Did he get burned by the explosion without realizing it? He can’t feel anything different, but paranoia crawls along his nerves. The look Shiro’s giving him is weird.

                  “Three,” Shiro says.

                  It’s correct, but the hesitation with which it was said doesn’t inspire a lot of confidence.

                  “How’s your head feel?” he asks.

                  Shiro pauses a long moment, enough for Lance to firmly decide on ’concussion.’

                  “Not as bad as you,” Shiro says finally.

                  A slow grin is starting across his lips, and Lance stares down at him, mouth parted in speechless confusion.

                  “‘Cause you must’ve fallen from heaven,” Shiro finishes, beaming.

                  Lance holds perfectly still for a moment as his brain processes the line. Not falling over from laughter in that instant is probably among his top ten moments of self-control, but that doesn’t stop his body from shaking with the laughter. Shiro - Takashi Shirogane - is using terrible pickup lines on him. Never mind the Galra debris strewn around them and the constant worry about the severity of Shiro’s injuries - this is _amazing_.

                  “Oh, really,” he says, mostly evenly. “I always thought I was _devilishly_ handsome.”

                  If possible, Shiro’s grin widens. He looks ridiculous, with a giant, dopey smile stretched across his lips, but he doesn’t seem aware.

                  “Well, you’d better call 911,” he says, sugar-sweet, “’cause I’ve fallen for you.”

                  _Holy shit,_ Lance thinks a little gleefully, and desperately wishes he could record this. Shiro would be mortified, he’s pretty sure, but he’s also pretty sure no one’s going to believe this when they get out of here. Which reminds him – Lance winces, levity slipping as he remembers the tense chatter in his comms. As funny as this is, it’s not exactly the right time.

                  “Alright, buddy,” Lance says, though the word feels funny in his mouth after the flirting, “let’s get you to that doctor.”

                  He bends to scoop an arm under Shiro’s shoulders, and Shiro goes willingly. When they get to their feet, Shiro sways and Lance tightens his grip on Shiro’s side. Shiro settles heavily into Lance’s side, forehead crinkled in pain.

                  “You okay there?” Lance checks.

                  The grimace is replaced almost immediately with that grin, and Lance nearly groans at whatever’s about to come out of Shiro’s lips. This is some kind of torture, to have his longstanding crush haphazardly flirting with him when Lance knows Shiro would never do something like this if he was thinking clearly. It’s the concussion talking, he knows.

                  “I think there’s something wrong with my eyes,” Shiro says in a stage-whisper. “I can’t take them off you.”

                  Lance does groan then, even as he starts them walking towards where Blue is hidden.

                  “Okay, you never get to give me shit about my lines,” he declares. “These are _terrible._ ”

                  Shiro stumbles a little, off-balance, and he turns his attention to intently stare at the ground as they walk. It seems to take most his concentration to keep walking in a straight path, and Lance shifts his hands to be more secure on Shiro’s side and the arm over his shoulder.

                  “I give you shit?” he half-mumbles.

                  “All the time!” Lance retorts, only just remembering not to fling his arms upwards.

                  Shiro’s frown intensifies, a little petulant. They’re walking up Blue’s walkway when he stops and turns to Lance. Stumbling from the sudden shift in momentum, Lance turns to look back the way they’d come in case Shiro’d spotted an approaching enemy. He sees nothing and turns back to Shiro to see him looking remarkably proud.

                  “I know,” Shiro says, “you should use them on me. Then I wouldn’t give you shit.”

                  He looks absurdly proud of himself, like he’s just solved the mystery of the universe. Lance gapes. Overheard, there’s the blast of a lion’s cannon. It’s enough to bring Lance back to reality, and he shakes his head as he turns back to guiding Shiro into the lion.

                  “Man, you would not say any of this if you hadn’t about broken your head open,” he gripes.

                  Even once they’re settled in the cabin, Shiro’s intermittent pickup lines persist. It’s only when they’ve reached the castle and Lance passes him off to Coran that they finally quit. When his last words before the cryopod kicks in involve Lance wearing space pants, Coran blinks and turns to Lance with blank confusion. Lance shrugs and affects a smarmy grin.

                  “What can I say?” he asks. “I’m Loverboy Lance.”

                  Coran snorts at the old nickname and shoos Lance out to shower and change out of his armor.

                  It’s only a few hours later that Shiro’s released from the cryopod, and as always, the other paladins are waiting to greet him. Lance hangs back a little, suddenly unsure about seeing Shiro. It’ll be the same as always, he knows – the pickup lines were a result of a concussion and not any real feelings. Still, he has to battle down that irrepressible hope that flickers recklessly in his chest. He doesn’t want to face that disappointment. Better, always, to know that Shiro is eternally out of his reach.

                  He files into the room to find Shiro wrapped in one of the castle’s shock blankets, frowning a little as he talks to Keith. His right hand is extended to let Hunk and Pidge check it over, but his focus shifts over as Lance walks in. He looks away after a moment, but it almost looks – _no._ Lance brushes the thought away. If Shiro’s flushed, it’s because he’s been in cryo for three hours. He’s definitely not blushing.

                  Lance pulls himself together enough to grin and join in the group, but he hangs back to let Keith finish telling Shiro about the rest of the mission after Shiro and Lance were found. Shiro nods thoughtfully when he’s done.

                  “It sounds like you guys did a great job,” he says to the group. “Good job on taking point, Keith, and Hunk, that was really smart how you figured out their ship’s weak point. Allura and Pidge, way to connect with your lions and bring the ships down. Sounds like they won’t be getting back in the air any time soon.”

                  Pidge grins, delighted. It _had_ been pretty sweet to see the self-healing ships split apart and frozen into stillness, Lance can admit, and he reaches over to ruffle Pidge’s hair. His hand’s immediately swatted, but Pidge is still grinning when she does it. Shiro follows the motion up to Lance. His proud expression falters a little, and he hesitates. Keith glances between them and rolls his eyes.

                  “Come on, guys,” he says. “We should get some dinner.”

                  Hunk blanches immediately. There is an informal but strictly enforced hierarchy in the castle on people allowed in the kitchen. The only two people listed _after_ Coran? Shiro and Keith.

                  “You know, I really can take care of dinner on my own,” Hunk says hurriedly.

                  “Nah, I wanna help,” Keith replies flatly, already walking out the door.

                  Hunk hastens after, trying to dissuade Keith. Pidge watches them a moment before looking back at Shiro. She glances to Lance, raises her eyebrows, and follows them out. Lance doesn’t know when Coran and Allura left, but they’re conveniently absent when he turns around. He turns to Shiro, baffled.

                  “So, I guess I owe you an apology,” Shiro says, looking down at his hands.

                  He’s rubbing his left wrist with his thumb, and it takes a moment of Lance staring at him in confusion for him to look up. He grimaces and looks away.

                  “Space pants,” he finally says, pained.

                _Oh._ Lance covers with a laugh, shrugging.

                  “Well, I think I get a free pass to practice all my lines on our next trip planetside,” he replies.

                  Shiro opens his mouth to speak, stops, and looks back down at where his thumb’s pressing into the tendons in his wrist. He lets up quickly, but the skin’s blanched where his thumb was. He says something in a mumble, too rapid to catch. Lance leans forward, frowning.

                  “What?” he asks.

                  Shiro looks toward the ceiling briefly before turning to Lance. His expression is agony – uncertainty and regret and anxiety all balled into one.

                  “I said, ‘or you could practice on me,’” he says.

                  Lance stares, mouth slack. Immediate regret colors Shiro’s face, and this time, it’s for sure a blush that covers his cheeks.

                  “Forget it,” Shiro says hurriedly. “Forget I said anything. I just – I remember you – nevermind. Sorry. That was stupid. I shouldn’t have-”

                  Lance reaches out a hand to catch Shiro’s shoulder. Shiro shuts up, looking up with wide eyes. Lance grins.

                  “Are you a 9 out of ten?” he asks. “’Cause I’m the one you need.”

**Author's Note:**

> are you a barista? 'cause you put the star in starbucks ;D


End file.
